“He does that every time someone probes too close to whatever he’s trying to hide.”
“He’s hiding something?” Emma stared at the wall and mused, “I didn’t know he had come to Haven with something to hide, too.”
“Too?”
Emma waved aside her question. “Just mumbling to myself. Maybe your arrival has changed his mind and he’ll come to the wedding, but don’t count on it.”
Cailin nodded and bid Emma a good afternoon. In truth, it was closer to evening, because chores had delayed both her and Brendan from finishing their errands.
Her smile returned. Brendan was spending every free moment he had with his cow. He brushed its black and white coat until she feared he was going to wear it right off. With care, he selected everything the cow ate. He was obsessed with every detail, and she knew Samuel had been right to insist on her son being on his best behavior if he wanted to take the cow to the fair.
Sweat bubbled up on her forehead and slipped down her back as she stepped off the store’s porch and into the sunshine. Even at this hour, the heat was hardly bearable, and dust rose with every step. She glanced toward the western sky, but no clouds were thickening there. How much longer could this heat and drought last? She hoped Samuel was wrong when he said it could be for several more weeks.
Brendan climbed up onto the wagon’s seat at the same moment she did. When she motioned for him to take the reins, he grinned. He loved every opportunity to drive.
She waved aside more dust as he turned the wagon back in the direction of Nanny Goat Hill Road. Slapping her skirt, she watched a brown cloud surround it. Everything was infested with dust.
“Mama?”
Cailin looked up at Brendan. “Yes?”
“I heard you and Samuel talking before we left and …” Color splashed up his face, although it could not hide the dark bruise around his eye and down his cheek … as Abban had worn more often than she had admitted to Samuel.
She did not want to see anything of his father in Brendan, but he had the same cleft in his chin and the same square hands. Putting her fingers over one of them, she said, “I assume you saw Samuel kiss me before we left.”
“I’ve seen him kiss you lots of times before.” He gave her a wry grin. “After all, Papa’s dead, so it’s all right for you to kiss another man.”
“It sounds as if you’ve got it all figured out.”
“I talked it over with Megan and Lottie. Then I talked to Sean this afternoon. We agree it’s all right.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you don’t mind my kissing Samuel.”
“Not kissing him, Mama. I mean it’s all right for you to marry him.”
“Marry him?” she gasped.
“Sean says that’s what grown-ups do who live in the same house.” He lowered his voice and looked over his shoulder, as if he expected someone to be following to eavesdrop. “He says it’s not right for you to be at the farm with Samuel for this long if you aren’t married, but I told him you wouldn’t do anything wrong.”
“Is that why you punched him?”
He nodded, hanging his head.
She put her finger beneath his chin and raised it. Seeing tears in his eyes, she said, “Brendan, Sean is the very best friend you have ever had. I know it hurt your feelings when he said something you disagreed with.”
“I didn’t disagree with him, Mama. You and Samuel should get married.” His smile returned, tremulous at first, then brightening as he said, “It’d be perfect. We could stay in Haven, and you and Samuel could have some more babies if you want.”
“You seem to have it all planned out.”
“I do!” He chuckled. “All you have to do is tell Samuel you want to marry him, and everything will be perfect.”
“I know it sounds that way to you.” She sighed. “But it isn’t quite that easy.”
“Why not? Don’t you love him? You wouldn’t kiss him if you didn’t love him, would you?”
“It isn’t quite that simple.”
“I don’t know why not.” His brows lowered in an expression he must have borrowed from Samuel. “You like kissing him and he likes kissing you. Shouldn’t you do what’s right, even if it’s difficult?”
She almost laughed at her son’s innocent assumptions. “Is that what Samuel told you about avoiding another fight with Sean?”
“Yes, and isn’t it the same?”
“I wish it was.” She hugged him and repeated, “I wish it was.”
“Will you think about it?”
She was tempted to tell him that the idea of marrying Samuel had not been far from the front of her mind since the night she first shared his bed. “Yes, Brendan, I’ll think about it.”
When Cailin had finished the dishes and tucked the children in after Brendan had read to them, she came back down the stairs. She knew she had to tell Samuel what Brendan had said, but she was not sure exactly how. If Samuel was as skittish about weddings as Emma claimed, the very topic might be ticklish. She recalled how he had reacted when he spoke of Rhea not working here any longer because she was getting married. He had looked as if someone dear had died.
Cailin paused in the parlor doorway. On this long, hot day, the breezes drifting through the open windows were a balm. A parade of insects danced about the lamp in front of one window, but she ignored them.
She was not surprised to see Samuel reading his newspaper. When he looked up, he smiled. He stood and tossed the newspaper onto a crate in his office. He picked up a sweating pitcher from the table beside his chair and asked, “How about some tea?”
“Iced, I hope.”
“It’s far too hot for anything else.”
“A good thunderstorm would sweep the air clean.” She took a glass and sat on the sofa.
“Cailin, we can talk about the weather all evening, but I’m more interested in what kept you mute through supper. Are you going to keep on avoiding whatever is bothering you?”
“No, I want to talk about it.” Her knuckles bleached on the glass. “Samuel, we need to talk.”
He sat beside her and murmured against her ear, “Do you want me to tell you about how my fingers could glide down your back like this?” He ran his hands lightly along her back.
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“Don’t?” He regarded her with astonishment. “Don’t what? Talk about touching you or touch you?”
“We need to talk about us.”
“What about us?” He twirled a strand of her hair around his finger.
She reached up and unwound the strand. Standing, because she had to put some distance between them, she said, “Brendan told me why he fought with Sean.” She put down the glass and clasped her hands, so she could not touch him. “Sean repeated the rumor that there’s something wrong about you and me living here as we are.”
Samuel shrugged. “Kids like to repeat what they hear, even when they don’t completely understand it.”
“But they do completely understand it.” She blinked back the tears she had been determined not to let fill her eyes. “If I was still just your housekeeper, I could have consoled Brendan and told him not to worry.”
“You were never just my housekeeper.”
“True, but …” She had to say it. Holding it back would only make the strain worse. “The children want us to get married, so their friends and their friends’ parents will stop gossiping about us.”
“Married?” Samuel stood, wanting to believe he had misheard Cailin. When she did not withdraw her words, he snapped, “If this is your way of coercing me to—”
“I never would force you to marry me. How could you even suggest that?”
“Cailin—”
“No, you’ll listen to me for once!” Her eyes were brilliant with fury and unshed tears. “How could you think I would use my children to make you marry me? What gives you the idea that I even want to marry you?”
“The way you kiss me.”
“It’s the same as the way you kiss me, and
you don’t want to marry me, although you’ve been quite happy to bed me. Now my children are the laughingstocks of Haven.” She put her hands up to her face. “Why did I listen to my heart again?”
“Your heart?” He grasped her shoulders. “Cailin, how could you be so foolish? You know this was meant to be just until you left.”
“No,” she whispered. “I didn’t know that.” Her face hardened. “Or was making love to me your way of persuading me to stay so you didn’t lose the children?”
“Is that what you think? What you really think? I don’t want to hurt either you or the children.”
“Then you failed.” She drew back. “Good night, Samuel.” She walked out of the parlor.
He heard her bedroom door close with a click. Not a slam as he had thought. Or as he deserved.
Sixteen
Samuel looked over the newspaper he had started to read last night before Cailin left him to deal with his thoughts. He did not want to believe he had been using her, but he had been delighted that she was not looking for any permanent ties. They could be happy with each other and not involve their hearts again. When the time came for her to go, as she seemed determined to do, she could do so without leaving him with nothing but humiliation.
He had thought it was the perfect solution to his unquenchable desire for her and his determination not to get mixed up with wedding plans again. As each minute passed during the eternally long night, he had been reminded how imperfect his plan had been. He had avoided the embarrassment but not the pain. And, worst of all, he had hurt her.
He slowly came to his feet as Cailin stood framed by the parlor doorway. Even in her old dress, she had possessed a certain tattered gamine appeal. Now, she wore a suit that hugged her curves before flaring out over a bustle. The brown fabric was the exact shade of her eyes, and her hair beneath her matching bonnet had become a ruddy flame. As hot as the one burning within him.
Her slender face would not be considered as beautiful as Beverly’s classically perfect features. Cailin had a pert nose and sparkling eyes framed by that fiery hair. More importantly, Cailin offered an outpouring of laughter and warmth to everyone she met. She did not need to have her name in a newspaper, for her efforts were aimed at helping quietly.
As she had wanted to help him.
Was he a fool to prevent her from helping him? She had trusted him with the greatest anguish within her heart, and she waited for him to do the same. And waited and waited.
“You look lovely,” he said, pushing aside his nagging thoughts.
“We’re going to Alice and Barry’s wedding. Are you coming?” Her voice was cool, and he noticed that she wore rice powder in an attempt to hide the circles beneath her eyes. She must have found sleep elusive, too.
He did not answer when he saw the children grouped behind her. All three had clean faces, and Megan and Lottie wore white ribbons in their neatly brushed hair. Dressed in their finest, the clothes he had had made for them to attend a recitation at the Centennial celebration at the schoolhouse on Independence Day, they were awaiting his answer with unusual patience.
“Well?” she asked when he said nothing. “Are you coming to the wedding with us?”
Again Samuel did not reply for so long Cailin began to believe he was hoping she would give up and leave without him. Or did he expect the children to do something outrageous and pull her attention from him? She could have told him that they were as anxious to hear his answer as she was.
“No,” he said quietly. “I made a vow a while back to avoid weddings and all the silliness that goes with them. I don’t see any reason to break that vow.”
Lottie rushed to wrap her arms around his leg. “Samuel, Dahi and me—”
“Dahi and I,” he corrected as he put his hand on her head, but his gaze never wavered from Cailin.
“Dahi and me and I …” Lottie giggled. “We’re going to see Miss Underhill get merry, so Brendan and Megan can have a new teacher.”
“Get married.” Brendan took her hand and led her back to stand beside Megan. When Lottie began to protest, he put his finger to his lips. “Shh!”
“Brendan, bring the soup pot.” Cailin held out her hands, and each girl took one. “We’ll see you this evening then, Samuel.”
She hushed the children’s questions as she herded them to the door. She looked back to see Samuel standing in the same spot. When he sighed, she wanted to run back and plead with him to come with them. She would be glad to help him face whatever kept him away from this happy day in Haven. Whatever had kept him away from her last night.
On each step toward the wagon, she yearned to hear him call for her to wait, that he had changed his mind. The only things she heard were Brendan’s cow’s bell and the birds singing in the trees. Lifting the girls into the back of the wagon, she set the soup pot in a crate so it would not spill. Then she turned to help Brendan so he could climb up without getting his dark suit dusty.
“We’re going without Samuel?” he asked, incredulous.
“Yes.”
She thought he would argue. She feared he would refuse to go unless Samuel joined them. When he picked up the reins, she climbed up beside him.
“Go ahead,” she said.
“If you talk to Samuel, maybe he’ll listen to you. He has before.”
“Samuel doesn’t want to come, and I know you’re excited about seeing Miss Underhill married.”
“Ask him again, Mama. Please.”
She had not guessed her heart could break again, but it did when she said, “No, Brendan. Let’s go.”
He nodded and gave the horse the command to go. Behind them, Megan and Lottie were busy imagining all that would happen at the wedding. They were debating how they could arrange to get the piece of cake with the most frosting.
Cailin looked back at the house. On the porch, Samuel leaned his hands on the railing as he watched them go. His face was long with a frown, but he did not call out to them to wait. He was standing there when the cloud of dust behind them obscured the house.
“A beautiful wedding,” announced Reverend Faulkner as he handed Cailin a glass of punch.
“Yes, it was.” She waved a paper fan that someone had handed her when she walked out of the church onto the green where the guests were gathered. It moved the heavy air very slightly.
He laughed as he looked past her, and she saw Megan and Lottie lining up with the young, unmarried women who were waiting for Alice to toss her bouquet. Before she could call them away, Alice threw it. Applause rose as it fell into Megan’s hands. Several of the young women looked aghast at the idea that the little girl would be the next among them to be married.
Megan ran over to them, with Lottie bouncing after her, and cried, “Look what Miss Underhill—I mean, Mrs. Hahn—gave me!”
“They’re lovely.” Cailin hesitated, then asked, “Reverend Faulkner, should she give the flowers back? She and Lottie shouldn’t have been there.”
“Mama!”
Reverend Faulkner patted Megan’s head. “Of course she shouldn’t give the bouquet back. She caught it fair and square.”
With a cheer, Megan held out the flowers to Cailin. “Mama, will you hold these?”
Cailin took them, and pulled out one and stuck it in Megan’s hairbow. “Now you look like a flower fairy.”
Megan danced away, twirling so the flower was in danger of flying off her head.
“Me, too?” asked Lottie.
“Of course.” She laced another stem through Lottie’s bow. “We’ll leave the others here.”
“Flowers need water to go. Samuel says so.”
“Go?” Cailin smiled. “Oh, you mean grow. Yes, flowers do need water.”
“Dahi and me—Dahi and I will get some water.”
She nodded. “Get a cup and fill it. Water, not punch. Flowers don’t like punch.”
“Silly flowers.” She grabbed a cup and ran toward the church.
“Megan looks so pretty,” said Alice as she picked up a
nother glass of punch. Unlike every other time Cailin had seen her, Alice was not wearing black. For her wedding, she had chosen a pale yellow gown. “Not quite the person I thought would catch my bouquet, but I doubt if anyone else would enjoy it more than she will.”
“I think you’re right,” Cailin replied with a laugh.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” She glanced at the minister, then said, “I thought if anyone could induce Samuel to change his mind, it’d be you, Cailin.”
“He didn’t want to come, but he sent his best wishes.” She added the last when Alice’s face grew bleak.
Music sounded across the green as Doc Bamburger’s fiddle announced that the dancing was about to start. When the groom came to collect his bride for the first dance, Alice said, “Tell Samuel I’ll see him at the meeting next Wednesday.”
“I will.” Cailin kept her smile from vanishing as the two walked toward the center of the green, where the guests had gathered to watch them dance for the first time as husband and wife.
When someone called the minister away, Cailin nodded absently as he excused himself. She was glad for a moment alone, a moment when she did not have to pretend it was all right that Samuel had not come to the wedding. Sitting on a bench by a table burdened with food, although the guests had already eaten, she sighed.
What she said last night had needed to be said. She could not regret a word, but she was very sorry that whatever he refused to share with her had created a chasm she was unsure if she would be able to cross again.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Rafferty.”
Cailin raised her eyes to discover Mr. Thanington smiling at her. Today, she could have almost believed his lie of being a British lord; his clothes were even more elegant than those he had worn to the meeting at the schoolhouse. Gold glittered on his fingers and across his stomach, where a watch fob ended in a pocket on his vest.
“Good afternoon,” she said.
“Would you stand up with me for a dance?” He gave a half-bow toward her.
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